


The Music or The Misery

by liziscribbles, nicoleiacross



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Assume Everyone Gets Mentioned/Shows Up, Body-image issues, Co-Written, F/F, F/M, M/M, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, characters to be added as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-29 21:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10144127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liziscribbles/pseuds/liziscribbles, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross
Summary: I've come up with a new recipeh!Four parts chocobros.Four parts musical instruments.One part Ardyn as sleazy manager.Add in moms and dads and girls and mentors to taste.Mix, serve, and enjoy!(AKA: Band AU!)





	1. Chapter 1

At this point, the song stopped feeling like music and started feeling like notes. It was disappointing, honestly, because Noctis had always been fond of this song. Car singalongs in moments when it was just him and his best friend—just him and Prompto driving through the busy Insomnia streets with the top down—singing and laughing and smiling without a care in the world. Now, though... he'd played it so many times that it didn't feel like the same song that he'd always loved anymore.

It was so, _so_ stifling in this practice space. The walls weren't soundproof, so anyone who walked by outside could probably hear him butchering the chords and the vocals. They'd been practicing the same song for hours upon hours, but no matter how many times they'd tried, Noctis' voice just wasn't strong enough to handle the bridge of 'Fast Car' without being overwhelmed by the instruments. It wasn't that he was bad. He wasn't a bad singer; his dad's insistence on voice training had ensured that he could hold his own with most types of music, but his voice just didn't seem to be fitting with the song. It was endlessly irritating, because he _knew_ that he could sing it.

He'd asked their manager—an almost stereotypical slimy and money-grubbing record executive by the name of Ardyn Izunia—if they could change the song. The man had adamantly refused. It was either 'Fast Car' or nothing. Noctis could learn it. Probably. Right now, though, he was starting to feel a little exhausted.

Not to mention... "Ugh. My hand is cramping."

Noctis was getting _tired_ of just playing 'Fast Car' over and over again. Over and over a hundred thousand times, it seemed. It wasn't like Noctis was _bad_ at playing guitar. He wasn't. He was pretty damn good, actually. Self-taught, until his dad discovered his natural-born talent and brought him in for lessons. Now, he could play circles around most other guitarists he knew. That didn't mean that he didn't still cramp up once in awhile, though. Right now, it felt like someone was pinching the muscle between his thumb and his index finger, so he turned toward Ignis and Gladio, holding his hand up and stretching it. "I think we need to take five before my hand decides that it hates me and tries to file for separation or something."

Ignis huffed an annoyed sigh, glancing from Noctis, to his keyboard, then to Gladio. "I suppose we do have time for lunch," he suggested.

A good suggestion, too, because it looked like Gladio was about to disagree before Ignis mentioned lunch. Leave it to Gladio, honestly. All about practicing and banging on his drums until they got a headache, then the second Ignis mentioned food—particularly the garulessa steak boxed lunches that Gladio had always loved—he completely and totally abandoned _that_ pursuit. "Mmm, maybe we can take five," he agreed, pushing himself up from his drummer's stool and stretching his arms up and over his head. The pops and cracks of lactic acid confirmed that they'd been practicing for way, way too long.

"You know," Noctis muttered as he gathered two boxes from Ignis' hand as he took them out of the bag, "I really don't think we're ready to debut yet. Ardyn seems convinced that we're ready, but it still feels like there's something missing. What do you think, Prompto?"

Noctis' bespectacled best friend glanced up from his laptop, where he sat typing up a post for the group's non-existent web page. Right now, it was just one of those fan blogs, but Prompto had vowed that when they made it big, he'd code them a website from the ground up. Noctis didn't mind. Having his best friend as their official social media manager ensured that he was always around. That he would always _be_ around. They couldn't very well leave their media guy behind when they made it big, could they?

Prompto blinked a couple of times, taken off guard by Noctis' question. "Huh?" he asked, adjusting his glasses on his face and pushing the messy mop of blond hair back from his face. "Oh. The debut? I dunno, I think you guys are good, but I still think you need to work on the song a little but more. Or try again to convince him that you should change to-"

"Won't let us," Gladio murmured through a mouthful of steak. "We keep tryin' to tell him that Noct's voice isn't right for 'Fast Car' but he's dead set on us debuting with that."

Noctis offered the boxed lunch down to Prompto and shrugged. "I'll just have to keep working at it, I guess," he said, sitting down beside Prompto and taking the top off of his own lunch. The steak tips and rice looked extra appetizing after the morning they'd had. They'd been here since eight, and it was two now. Had they even stopped?

It wasn't like he hadn't sang the song before. He and Prompto would share earbuds when they walked down the street, or crank the radio when they sat on the bus and sing way louder than they had the right to in either of those places. Or when they rode through the streets of Insomnia with the top down, singing at the top of their lungs. The difference between then and now, though, was that he could quiet himself on some of the more challenging vocal riffs and let Prompto take over. He couldn't do that here. Singing solo provided a whole new set of challenges. Ones that Noctis wasn't sure he could handle without Prompto's backup.

After moving his laptop off to the side, Prompto eagerly removed the top to the boxed lunch and started in on the steak. "Maybe Iggy could sing backup with you."

Ignis laughed and shook his head no. "No, no. My voice isn't made for this song. Adryn chose it after hearing Noctis singing it when he was cleaning up after one of our first practice sessions," he explained, glancing over at Prompto before biting down on a piece of steak.

"Well," Prompto shrugged his shoulder. "Maybe if we relax Noct's practice a bit. Like, the two of you could do some casual practice and Noct and I can practice the same way we practiced for... since Noct got his license?" He reached to his left and fished through his messenger bag for a familiar pair of green earbuds. Grinning at Noctis, he offered the left earbud out to him.

Noctis eyed the small piece of plastic and chuckled softly. "I'm getting so tired of 'Fast Car,' Prom."

Nudging Noctis with his shoulder, Prompto half-smiled. "I know. But I can't let you start to hate that song. It's too important. Let me remind you how great it can be," he suggested.

There were many things that Noctis could say no to, but Prompto's smile and genuine happiness was not one of them. So, he nodded and accepted the earbud from his friend's hand. "Alright. But I'm not singing along with you until I finish eating," he insisted, putting the earbud in his ear and taking some rice on his fork to accentuate his point.

An eager nod was the response this time, as Prompto had already put another few steak tips in his mouth. Still, he looked absolutely delighted by the consent and moved as close as he could to Noctis. The ever unspoken ' _So the earbuds don't fall out as easily_ ' hung between them, but Noctis had long stopped noticing.

His other two friends, however, quite apparently hadn't. They didn't say anything; but, out the corner of his eye, he saw Gladio elbow Ignis in the side and gesture over towards the younger two by tilting his head. Gladio wasn't even looking at them as he did this and Ignis spared them little more than a glance before his attention returned to whatever they were talking about. It was too quiet for Noctis to hear, so he just assumed they were either making plans for later or trying to come up with _any_ method that would help Noctis get this damn song down. Singing with Prompto would hopefully help... but that didn't change the fact that Prompto wouldn't be with him during the debut—couldn't be in the recording room with him, on stage, at panels... well, maybe he could get away with having Prompto at these rumoured panels. Assuming they made it that far. Regardless, he needed to be able to do this on his own and it... wasn't an appealing thought, to say the very least.

Those thoughts all but flew out the window when he realised Prompto had begun to hum and wondered how long the song had been playing. Normally, when 'Fast Car' came on, Noctis was _immediately_ aware and ready to jump right into the lyrics with Prompto. But, as his mind tried to process where the song even was, as he tried to figure how long the iPod had even been on, Prompto's humming trailed off a bit—the way his voice always does towards the end of the song—and his fork was tapping against the side of his lunchbox with the closing notes. A few seconds of silence and the tapping started back up; Prompto didn't start humming, though. Instead, he was mouthing the words and, just before the second verse, he began to sing. Noctis joined right in without thinking, didn't even notice when Prompto put his head down on Noctis' shoulder at the beginning of the chorus. Just before he backed off of the vocals, letting Prompto take over, and immediately relaxed.

Out the corner of his eye, he could see Ignis' free hand tapping out notes against his knee in place of his keyboard, even though he was still talking to Gladio; and, Gladio—being the only one done with his lunch—was tapping along with his drumsticks. The scene, even as Noctis picked back up for the next verse, wholly reminded him just why he loved the song. What the song was supposed to mean to him. Not just notes and stress—it was supposed to be driving around with Prompto in the middle of the night. All of them hanging out in one of his dad's studio's, just playing for the Hell of it and letting Prompto upload small clips of them to his blog.

When the song came to a close that time, Noctis was forced to return to reality and gave his best friend a quick glance, tried to smile and hoped it didn't look too forced. "Seriously. How do you manage to do that?"

Prompto finally sat up straight, acting like he hadn't just been using Noctis as a pillow and shrugged a little, "I can't do the whole song either, so... I dunno?"

"You've never tried to sing the whole song." Noctis pointed out with a small frown. "... Guess neither of us have." He let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand back through his hair. Prompto gave his arm a small, reassuring and sympathetic squeeze, but didn't have any input or encouragement to try picking him up for once.

Across from them, Ignis finally spoke up, "We could, I suppose, always try to convince Mr. Izunia to sign Prompto on, as well."

Even as the words left him, there was an unspoken ' _not likely_ ' hanging between the four of them. Noctis scowled, while Gladio just gave a small shrug and shook his head, "Tried that, remember?"

Prompto just pulled his lower lip between his teeth, squirming in his seat and poking what was left of his lunch in an absent manner. There was a moment—short but definitely there—where he looked excited; but, just as quickly it was gone and he gave an uneasy laugh, "Dude, I would _die_ on stage. I don't know _how_ you guys handle people watching you. Don't get me wrong. I love singing along, but this isn't for me... y'know?"

Noctis wanted to tell him it was. That all four of them belonged together, the way it had been for the past couple of years—as long as he's known Prompto. That, yeah, singing in front of people was _terrifying_ , but completely manageable with the others there. Noctis wasn't keen on performing in front of people either (another reason he was nervous about the song choice; even if he got it right during practice, what would happen when he was suddenly in front of people?) but Gladio and Ignis being there made it feel less overwhelming. Safer. Prompto being there could only double, maybe even triple, that effect.

Before he had a chance to voice those particular opinions, Gladio was pulling Ignis up to his feet and both were stretching out once more. Gladio grumbled under his breath as he headed back to his drums, giving the seat a disdainful glare. Despite _loving_ his drum set, Gladio was very much a physically active person and sitting still too long—especially after he got to move around for a few seconds and his body reminded him how sore it was from _not_ moving... well. He was probably getting close to the limits of his patience as well. Ignis smoothing a hand down one of his arms, giving his hand a brief squeeze of reassurance, seemed to calm him down a little and they both returned to their instruments.

Ignis adjusted his glasses, regarding the two on the floor for a moment longer before he smiled, "Well. I doubt we'll make any real progress today... so. Prompto, Noct... why don't we just spend the last few hours treating this like an afternoon in one of Mr. Caelum's studios? It wouldn't do to have Noct hating the song."

Prompto perked up immediately and gave Noctis a hopeful look, "Want to?"

Instead of answering right away, he got back to his feet and held a hand out to help Prompto up, "Like you need to ask. C'mon, blondie. You know you want to sing as much as we want you to."

To that, Prompto kept smiling and gave Noctis a small shove so he could grab the mic stand first, "For you guys? Any time."

Everything felt natural from there. Prompto always seemed to enter another universe when he sang. A universe that busted down the walls of his anxiety and brought out the superstar that Noctis knew was inside of him. A long time ago, Prompto had told Noctis that when he sang like this—like he had in Noctis' dad's garage all the time—he would imagine them playing a sold out show to a crowd of thousands; all singing along, screaming their names, there to see _them_. Part of Noctis wondered if that was what he was doing now.

Another part wondered if there was any lingering bitterness about not being included in that fantasy becoming reality. It wasn't fair. They were all talented in their own ways. Gladio was one of the best drummers Noctis had ever known. He played along with music, but also improvised in places, making old songs all the better. Ignis could keyboard circles around some of the greats, even; his classical training showing through but not overwhelming the modern music they played. Noctis was a good guitarist, and a good enough singer when he had to be. Good for simple songs. Nothing with too complex a vocal riff; but that was why Noctis _still_ felt they needed Prompto. Seeing him in the forefront of the group, playing like they were playing before a sold out house again, just solidified that even more.

They all sounded better with him there. Noctis backed him up in the same places he always did when they sang together with their headphones on or in the car, but Prompto took the reins, singing lead like it was what he was put on Eos to do. Singing less allowed Noctis to focus more on playing his guitar and he didn't screw up on the places that he always did before. There were way, way fewer mistakes, which meant that Ignis and Gladio didn't slip up at all, either. They were best when they were a unit of four. They needed Prompto to be a real band.

Why couldn't Ardyn see that?

So into their performance were they, that they didn't even notice the door to the small performance space opening, and their burgundy-haired manager leaning against the door frame to watch the end of their performance. When the song died down, the man clapped a slow, golf clap of approval, as he walked into the room with a cagey smile on his face. His eyes went from Gladio, to Ignis, to Noctis, and then settled on Prompto. Whereas usually he eyed him with disapproval, disdain for the fact that Noctis always refused to go anywhere without his best friend, there was something different in his expression now.

"Imagine my surprise, seeing my band doing the _one thing_ I've expressly forbidden them from doing in the practice space I've rented for them," Ardyn's voice chastened as he walked into the room, past Noctis, to stand in front of them.

It was true. Many times had he told them not to allow Prompto to practice with them. He claimed that Prompto 'wasn't fit for the stage,' and would 'bring them down, hold them back.' No amount of disagreement from Noctis or Ignis or Gladio seemed to do any good. No amount of insistence that Prompto was their missing piece; that he was exactly what he needed to make them sound like they were 'supposed' to sound, did any good. At least not usually. Given the way he was looking at Prompto right now, Noctis didn't expect this particular time to be any different. Prompto shrank back, all the confidence fading from his demeanor. He took a step back from the microphone and worried his lip between his teeth.

Noctis stepped forward, his guitar hanging from his shoulder and leaning against his side. "Ardyn, I can explain."

Ardyn, however, let his lips curl even higher as he turned his head to look at Noctis. "Mr. Izunia," he sneered. "And there's no need, dear boy." He turned to look at Prompto again. "Initially, when I spotted you breaking my rule through the window, I was intending to come in here and chastise the lot of you. Expelling this one from the room," he explained, pointing at Prompto, then allowing his gaze to follow where his finger pointed. "However, as I witnessed my band as they flawlessly performed a song that has been vexing them for weeks—well, almost flawlessly anyway—I found myself at a loss for words."

Prompto had always said up front, that Ardyn made him uneasy. It was really no mystery as to why. Ardyn always looked at him like he was something that was better served scraped off the bottom of someone's shoe and thrown into the garbage. Right now, though, that expression was different. Surprise, confusion, amazement. "I would ask where you've been hiding this one, but I suppose you did say all along that he was the missing piece of your little ensemble, here, didn't you?" he asked.

"We did," Ignis answered, since everyone else seemed to be dealing with their own surprise reactions in regards to Ardyn's sudden change of heart. "Many times, in fact."

Ardyn didn't seem to appreciate being called out on his unwillingness to listen, if the way he snapped his head up to look at Ignis with a glare that dared him to continue with that thought process was any indication. Gladio bristled at the expression being cast at Ignis, and Ardyn waved him off with a dismissive hand. "Yes, well, you must understand why I'm hesitant," he murmured.

Ignis continued, mostly unfazed by their manager's annoyance. "Beg pardon?" he asked calmly.

Gesturing at Prompto, Ardyn shrugged a shoulder. "Admittedly, I'm not still a hundred percent sure he has what it takes," he explained, starting to walk around Prompto and looking him over in a vague appraisal. It was the same thing he'd done to each of the others when he'd sized up what they needed to change to be taken seriously as a band, but Noctis still bristled and had to physically fight with an instinct to approach and protect his best friend. "But there is absolutely no denying that you sound significantly better with him than you do without him. On that song, at the very least."

"What're you saying?" Gladio asked from behind the drum set, _very_ clearly fighting with his own instincts, too. With their lack of a bodyguard, Gladio took those instincts upon himself.

Ardyn ignored Gladio, in favor of looking Prompto over. "You," he said, snapping his fingers once, twice, three times, looking at Prompto as if he was trying to remember his name. "Who are you again?"

Blinking, and still shrinking slightly against Ardyn's appraisal, Prompto answered, "P-Prompto Argentum. Sir," in a croaking voice.

"Yes, yes. That was the name. Can you sing any other songs?" Ardyn asked.

When Prompto didn't answer right away, Ardyn's eyes began to narrow, lips setting into a thin line the betrayed just how quickly his patience was waning. Noctis—despite Ignis making a warning gesture for him not to—jumped in on the conversation once more, "Anything we can play, he can sing."

Despite the annoyed look Ardyn immediately threw him, the man's lips were slowly curling back into their usual grin, "Very well. Prove it."

He stayed next to Prompto, instead of immediately giving all four of them room. Ignis took over in that moment, before Noctis could say anything he would regret, "Mr. Izunia, if you don't mind. We'll need a moment to discuss which song to play."

Of the four of them, Ignis was probably the one that could best handle the brunt of Ardyn's bite without flinching, even if his smile—normally collected and inviting—twitched when the annoyance was turned on him from Noctis. Still, their manager seemed to concede when he pushed his sleeve back to check his watch, "I'll give you five minutes to prepare, gentlemen. I expect results."

He tipped his head towards Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio, gave Prompto another look of thinly veiled ridicule (made it clear he expected them to fail), and finally exited the room.

As soon as the door shut, Prompto let out an unsteady breath and nearly fell face first to the ground. He managed to catch himself and instead crouched down to the floor, balancing on the balls of his feet and his hands flat against the ground, while he put his forehead against his knees and started to take more regulated breaths to calm down. Noctis knelt down with him, smoothing a hand over his shoulders and back, "Need anything, Prom?"

"A second heart," the blonde mumbled with a strained laugh, knowing full well Noctis could feel the harsh, rapid pounding through his back, "Guys, I can't do this in front of him. I really, _really_ can't—"

"Hey, don't be like that, Prom." Noctis rubbed his back a few more times before putting an arm over his shoulders. It was a casual enough gesture for them; as much as Noctis normally hated people in his personal space, Prompto was the one exception. The person he would go out his way to give a hug because he _needed it_. Even when they had been in the earlier stages of friendship—just meeting and still getting used to each other—Prompto was the one person in their group that _all of them_ felt an overwhelming need to protect. He pushed the thoughts away and gave Prompto's shoulder a quick squeeze to get his attention just as much as to reassure him everything would be all right, "It's not going to be just you, ok? I'm right here with you; so's Specs and so's Gladio."

"But—"

"Prompto." Ignis' voice cut through the protests, clear and confident as ever, and he gave both of them a patient look, his arms crossed lightly at his chest, "You _did_ just perform in front of him. You did a spectacular job, as you always have. You _belong_ here, just as much as we do, and are fully capable of carrying yourself vocally. Pick a song— _any_ song. We will support you, the same way we always have. He is nothing to be afraid of, all right?"

As simple as the words were, they all knew the weight the reassurance—the reminder—carried for Prompto. He'd stated early on—almost immediately, in fact—that he didn't like the man. That Ardyn made him nervous, reminded him too much of being at home; and, that hadn't been a surprise. Ardyn had torn into Prompto with every perceived flaw he could when he appraised the four of them and Prompto had stepped down under the pressure—the same pressure he'd been living with when he lived with his dad.

It had taken Noctis the better part of three days to convince Prompto that things would be ok; that Ignis would examine their contract, that his dad would look out for them. Steps were being taken to ensure that everyone—Prompto, especially—was in a safe environment if they made it that far. And, while it had been disappointing to be brushed off so easily and have Prompto dismissed... if that was safe, it would do. But they had a chance— _finally_ —to fix that part. To have Prompto up with them where he _belonged_ , like they all knew he did. But, first... they had to figure out a song before Ardyn came back and tore into them—Prompto, specifically—even worse.

Noctis smiled when the solution hit him almost immediately and he nudged Prompto a little, "I got a better idea. He wants results? We'll give him results. You two still comfortable playing 'In My Hands'?"

"It's... been a while, but I'm sure we can manage." Ignis tone drawled a bit, obviously uncertain why Noctis was picking the song; still, the way he glanced down at his watch and didn't offer any criticism said they were running out of time and he had little to no will to argue. It also told Noctis he needed to hurry up and make his point.

"You okay opening on that, Prom?"

Prompto finally raised his head, surprised. "Opening?"

"Yeah, opening. He wants results? We show him we can play _anything_. So: 'In My Hands', 'The Anthem', and... one more. What's a good closing song, Prom?"

Prompto immediately brought a hand up to smother a snort and looked _exceptionally_ calmer, which in turn made Noctis smile. If sacrificing his ego by admitting he still liked Good Charlotte meant Prompto was calm and happy again, he'd do it. He'd do it as many times as necessary. After a split second of hesitation, Prompto spoke up, hopeful, "Pocketful of Sunshine?"

A quick look over his shoulder showed Gladio giving a thumbs up from behind his drums and Ignis nodding slowly; it had been a while... and, really, Ignis looked more concerned that Noctis would be the one to decline. Rightly so, perhaps; but, if singing back up to 'Pocketful of Sunshine' made Prompto more comfortable, he'd do it. He was, quite literally, at the point he would do anything to make sure his friend was on stage with them.

Not a moment too soon had he nodded and helped pull Prompto to his feet when the door opened again. Ardyn moved to join their space again, only to stop short when Ignis spoke up.

"With all due respect, perhaps staying away from the stage area would help?" Ignis offered, ever calm, ever the voice of reason, "Your appraisal can wait, surely? He won't have anyone on stage aside from us in the future; so, there's truly no reason to pile on excessive pressure, is there?"

They both looked over their shoulders this time; Noctis, mostly, to fight down the urge to laugh at the annoyance on Ardyn's face; while Prompto threw the keyboardist a grateful look. Ignis made an idle gesture for them to turn front and center; but, the smile he offered was the only ' _you're welcome_ ' they really needed. Honestly, the confidence that Prompto _would_ be on stage with them after this was probably the most reassuring part.

"Very well," To say Ardyn was agitated would like be an understatement; but, it was just as likely that he was impatient, "I'll say it once, boys: Impress me."

Noctis could swear that he heard Ardyn muttering curses under his breath as he retreated from the room. Maybe he should have cared, especially if the way that the confidence that the rest of them had built up around Prompto started to shake a little bit. It was annoying, how easy it was for him to do that. Thicker-skinned people like Ignis or Gladio were never bothered by it. At least, they never showed it. Noctis was bothered by it, to a degree, but it was easier to recognize when Ardyn was just trying to get under his skin when he started pointing out things that Noctis _knew_ that he did well. Like keeping rhythm with his guitar or harmonizing.

On Prompto's part, with most people, he was good at seeing what criticisms were genuine criticisms and what ones were people just trying to get under his skin. Most people. The similarities between Ardyn and Prompto's father were far too great for Noctis' liking. Admittedly, Noctis had only met him a couple of times before Prompto had gotten emancipated at the age of sixteen; Prompto always came to _Noctis'_ house, never the other way around. The few times Noctis _had_ seen the man, though, were less than pleasant. As smart as Prompto was, he wasn't the best with school things, and his father would tear him down for that. Grades, appearance, lack of direction... all things that weren't really problems insomuch as things that Noctis suspected that Prompto's dad invented to tear him down.

Ardyn did the same thing, and none of the guys were in any real position to stop him. Ardyn was an authority figure to them—despite the fact that they were _all_ adults; Noctis and Prompto were the youngest in the band at twenty—the contract they'd signed essentially gave him rule of their lives.

Shaking the thought off, the four of them exchanged nods before breaking into the opening riff of '(Hemorrhage) In My Hands.' It was another one they'd played a thousand times since they started playing together, and Prompto seemed to have undergone a transformation from soulful crooner to confident rocker over the course of the five minutes that they'd been talking to Ardyn. Prompto's voice, the most confident and loud of all of them, echoed out throughout the small practice space, and he worked the microphone like a professional. Away from his face for instrumental sections, while he tapped his foot and bobbed his head along, then back in front of his face again when it came time to sing. He leaned the mic stand to the side, used it in as an intricate tool to enhance his performance, and as Noctis played along and sang backup, he couldn't help but let a smile cross his face.

This was _just_ like when they played together in high school.

When Prompto tapped his foot and counted them into 'The Anthem,' a song that they probably played more than any of the others—more than 'Fast Car,' even—they were all on autopilot. Noctis didn't need to pay attention, either. He knew the chords to this song almost as well as he knew how to breathe. Ignis played the bass line easily on his keyboard, and Gladio—no matter _how_ many times he explained how greatly he detested the song—drummed along with a proud smile on his face. Prompto looked like a rock star, standing in front of the rest of the group, bouncing and tapping his foot along with Gladio's drum beat, and Noctis wondered exactly how Ardyn could _ever_ have gotten the idea that he wouldn't fit in.

If anything, it was more of a concern that his pure star power would completely overshadow the rest of them. That wasn't really a concern, either, though, because Prompto would never allow that to happen. Just like when they'd started this band back in school, they were all equal parts of it. No one was more important than anyone else. They'd made that pact back when they'd started the band, too.

When they finished the song and Prompto held the microphone loosely at his side, posing like a perfect shot for a photographer—which made sense, since he _was_ a photographer—he turned back to look at Gladio, pointing at him while he did a four-count and started the drumbeat to 'Pocketful of Sunshine.' Noctis mostly played rhythm here and let Ignis play the melody, but his eyes kept going to Prompto where he performed like he was exactly where he was meant to be. At one point, during a small instrumental moment, he spun around slid back and forth in front of the microphone, then stopped right in front of it just in time to belt out a confident, _"take me away!"_

For the first time in almost six months, their band felt like their band again. Ardyn _had_ to see how wrong he was now.

Noctis smirked into the microphone as he and the others sang backup, sharing a knowing glance with Ignis and Gladio as the song died down. Prompto turned around and glanced at the others, confidence shining in his eyes as he pushed his bangs back from his face and quirked his head to the side in an unspoken question. His lip was held between his teeth and his eyes held a mix of nerves and confidence. But it wasn't them that he had to impress. They already knew how great he was.

Much to Noctis' surprise, Gladio was the first to speak. Noctis had his mouth open, words right on the cusp, but Gladio's voice filled the practice space instead. "That, Izunia, is why we need this kid," he announced, pointing at Prompto and daring Ardyn to disagree with him when the results had just been _clearly_ displayed in front of him like a billboard sign.

"Clearly you have to see the error in your ways now," Ignis agreed, stepping around his keyboard and squeezing Prompto's shoulder as he passed, walking to the edge of the stage.

Noctis ignored Ardyn for now, instead opting to put his guitar on its rack and walk up beside Prompto, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a one-shouldered hug. "You were awesome," he encouraged his best friend with a nudge to his side. "Forgot how much I missed doing that."

"I think I was a little shaky on the bridge to 'In My Hands,' but-"

Ardyn cleared his throat from where he stood, and nodded at Prompto. "I agree. You were," he answered, no smile on his face or amusement in his voice. "But other than that, you were... adequate."

" _Adequate_?"

Noctis heard his own anger drowned out by Gladio and could feel Prompto cringe next to him. Surprisingly enough, the man remained at his drums but Noctis could still _feel_ the anger radiating from him, hear it in the way his voice was little more than a growl. Ardyn spared him a passive glance, unperturbed, and tipped his head in a mock show of consideration, "Yes. Adequate. Has your choice of instrument been so detrimental that you are incapable of—"

"With all due respect," Ignis' voice cut through Ardyn's, his eyes narrowing at his boyfriend in warning—a simple and normalized warning; something they went through daily—as he continued, "I believe what Gladio _meant_... is that we merely wish to ascertain what areas you wish him to improve. We will help however we are capable—"

"Oh, I'm certain you _would_ ; but, I've a very specific improvement in mind for him." Ardyn gave Gladio a final glance—one that practically dared him to talk back again—before turning a much more annoyed expression on Ignis for interrupting him, "That being said, I'll need to borrow you over the next few days. We'll need to edit your contracts quite a bit to include... this one—Argentum, there we go." He made a dismissive gesture before any of them could react, "You'll make time won't you?"

"I... of course." Ignis frowned, throwing Gladio a quick look—less commanding than before; more pleading, begging him to mind his temper—and let out a slow breath when he continued, "I'm sure we can rearrange our plans accordingly...." He hesitated, for barely a split second, when Ardyn's look became a bit more inquisitive, though equally demeaning and making it rather obvious he didn't care _what_ plans he'd disrupted. But, Ignis shook his head and cleared his throat, "It's nothing that cannot be worked around, I assure you. I can make time. It won't be an issue. So, about Prompto—"

" _I_ will handle Argentum. He will need to make a few minor changes; but, they are all well within acceptable and attainable parameters. You'll have a full and thoroughly detailed list in due time, Scientia. Now, you three," he gestured towards Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio in a sweeping, idle gesture, "You've still a bit of time; if you wish to run through the debut song again, please do. Otherwise, you're free to go for the afternoon. I would greatly appreciate you _not_ squander this gifted rehearsal time." Despite giving them an opening, Ardyn made it clear he expected them to stay and practice through their allotted time; with no arguments, his attention zeroed in on Prompto, "And _you_ will be coming to speak to me. I need to reassess your situation and just what you will be working on, so I can give Scientia the list he desires, post haste. Questions, boys?"

Despite exchanging uncertain glances, they all shook their heads no and watched Ardyn leave. They waited a few beats—just to be sure he was gone—before a collective breath of relief filled the room. Ignis crossed back over to where Gladio was still at his drums, hands curled tight enough that Noctis wondered how he hadn't snapped his sticks in half; but, Ignis was barely fazed (if at all) and merely sat himself in the drummer's lap, offered a water bottle, and the two began arguing in hushed tones about whatever plans had been mentioned to need adjustments. Instead of trying to eavesdrop—mostly assuming it was something personal, given how angry Gladio was—Noctis turned his attention to where his arm was still slung over Prompto's shoulders, still holding the blonde close. In turn, Prompto was clutching Noctis' shirt like his life depended on it. Like it was the only thing keeping him upright and, given how pale he'd gone during the conversation—specifically, when told he'd need to see Ardyn in his office... that probably isn't far from the truth. Prompto finally turned his eyes upward, expression full of quiet pleading that became words as soon as he could find his voice, "Do I _have_ to go to his office alone?"

"Probably." Noctis felt _horrible_ having to be the one telling him that and just hugged him tighter when it earned him a throaty whine, "You can do this, ok? It only takes a few minutes, I promise. All of us will wait out by the car and, soon as we get home, we can tell dad everything, cool? He's going to be just as proud of you as we are. We can call mom, too, ok? How does that sound? I bet she'd be real excited to hear you're _finally_ getting the recognition you deserve."

Excited was an understatement; really, he could see his mother flying into town _just_ to celebrate and congratulate Prompto herself. Prompto seemed to have the same thought, judging by his smile, and the small nod. After a moment of hesitation—worrying his lower lip until Noctis' gave him a gentle flick on the chin to get him to stop—he finally spoke up again, "Can we call Cor and Weskham, too? I know they're probably super busy, but I wanna tell them, too... or—or, maybe, I should just shoot them an e-mail—"

"I _know_ they'd love to hear from you. Calling is a great idea, Blondie." Noctis hugged him tighter and ruffled his hair before finally releasing the blonde and offering a lopsided grin, "Wanna help me practice a bit more? I need to go over a few chords, now that I'm not splitting my focus between singing and playing."

"We should run through it a couple more times as a group," Ignis put in, cutting his conversation with Gladio off when he stood and made it clear that, whatever decision had been made was final, regardless of any argument his boyfriend had. Gladio scowled at him, but let the topic go in favor of shifting his seat and looking between the other three to see if they _were_ going to practice like Ardyn 'suggested' they do.

Despite the initially shy nod, Prompto looked absolutely _ecstatic_ by the proposal and, as soon as he was back in front of the mic, the tension seemed to all but evaporate as he counted them in, as he tapped his foot to the short opening, as his voice made a smooth transition from the upbeat pop of 'Pocketful of Sunshine' back into the relaxing, soulful 'Fast Car'. They'd cleared their hurdle—they were back together as a band of four, back in their comfort zone, back in the world they'd created for themselves in high school, and back on the path paved for _their_ future. All four of them. 

At that very moment, nothing else in the world seemed to matter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto gets a makeover, Ardyn continues to be a creep, and the boys celebrate being a full band again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... contrary to what the chapter says, it is NOT just by heyjealousy. It is actually by both of us. *shakes fist at AO3*

_"And we'll have to work on this here."_

It wasn't the words, so much, that were unsettling Prompto as he stared in the mirror long after Ardyn had left the room. It was the cool air touching his skin when Ardyn lifted his shirt about six inches, or the less-than-gentle pinching fingers that had grabbed hold of the excess skin and fat that Prompto didn't even realize that he'd had. It wasn't like he didn't like being touched. He didn't share Noctis' aversion to physical contact, not really. And he was sure that it wasn't anything beyond a manager being business-oriented. That didn't change the fact, though, that Ardyn was very much not on his list of 'people to trust.' The fact that he'd just grabbed the bare flesh of Prompto's waist without his permission just served to make him even warier than he'd already been.

Ardyn had followed up that bit of criticism with the insistence that he be allowed to work out a diet and workout plan for Prompto. Not for the first time since he'd agreed to rejoin the band, did he wonder if it was the right decision. But just like every other time, the thought of going on tour on the _bus_ , with Iggy and Gladio and _Noct_ , rather than just following behind in his car, overthrew all of those questions and told him that it was absolutely worth it. It wasn't like they'd let Ardyn get away with anything.

Still, that didn't change the level of strangeness he felt, looking at his new appearance in the mirror. He still looked the same; pale skin and freckles, long limbs that—according to Ardyn—hung far too low and needed to be compensated for with a shirt that made his torso look longer. He looked different in just as many ways, though. Prompto looked at the reflection of his face, unsure how he liked seeing it without his glasses. Ever since he was five, he'd worn glasses. In fact, he remembered the conversation with his father on the day the school nurse had called and insisted that he needed to _get_ them. It was one of the things that Prompto hated to think about whenever he looked in the mirror. It should have made him feel relieved, honestly, not to be wearing them anymore.

It didn't. He just felt uneasy. "Can't win," he chuckled to his reflection. "You hate wearing them, you hate _not_ wearing them."

The black-rimmed spectacles sat on a dresser on the other side of the room, and Prompto picked them up, sliding them into the old glasses case that he'd always carried around with him, just in case. It went into his laptop bag, and he glanced up at the mirror again. It had only been a few minutes, but the contact lenses still felt a little bit odd. Ardyn had tried to insist that he wear the purple lenses, but that was one thing that Prompto had allowed himself to be staunch on.

Noctis had told Prompto that his eyes already had a little purple in them, anyway. And that he thought that they were perfect the way they were. No matter what Ardyn said, Prompto couldn't allow the man to come in and change the _one_ thing about him that was perfect. Still, _seeing_ them like this, without the lenses obstructing them, would take some getting used to.

That wasn't even to mention the clothes, either.

They weren't bad. They weren't bad at _all_ , really. Though Prompto did wonder about the leopard print on the pants. Ardyn had overridden his choice of shirt, a black one with twisting white patterns, in lieu of a red sleeveless shirt, but he'd allowed Prompto to keep the black vest over the top. The stylist had recommended a flannel trim, which was odd, but Prompto couldn't deny that the end result was... well, it was _different_ , definitely. Pushing the tuft of hair that was usually just combed into a relaxed mess on his head, but was now coiffed into something that oddly resembled chocobo plumage, he blinked at his reflection again.

Never in his life had he actually worn _makeup_ , either. The reddish-brown eye-liner seemed oddly out of place, but Ardyn had seemed to like it. The stylist had taught him how to put it on, as well as all of the other makeup that she'd put on him up to this point. Ardyn had _insisted_ that they not do anything to get rid of his freckles—calling them 'endearing little blotches,' which was an odd thing to say, Prompto decided—but instead, the stylist had decided to draw _attention_ to them. Whatever cream she'd put on his face made the off-color skin on his nose and cheeks stand out twice as much, and he couldn't help but feel a little bit weird about it.

According to the stylist, though, he looked like a star now. He wasn't so sure about that, but he was _definitely_ sure of the fact that he looked like an entirely different person.

Now, all he had to do was convince himself to walk out of the room and into the hall, where the others were waiting for him. Pulling in a breath and then pushing it out, Prompto gave himself one last once-over, blowing air up to puff some of the coiffed blond hair from his eyes, nodding once in self-affirmation and an insistence to himself that he had no reason to be nervous because his friends wouldn't judge him. With that in mind, he turned and grabbed his laptop bag, walking to the door with a falsely determined vengeance. He had to do it eventually.

Through the door, he could hear chit chat—just rumbles of voices—from more than just his friends. Gladio and Noctis' tones complimented each other, indicating conversation, and Ignis talked with Ardyn, the same stiff tone that he always used when addressing the man. Part of him wanted to use that as an excuse to hesitate, as a reason not to open the door and display himself to the rest of the group, but he couldn't. That was the whole reason they were here, and the sooner he did it, the sooner they could get the hell out of here and go about the rest of their day.

With that in mind, he allowed himself to reach up and push on the door.

The door opened and, though Noctis was in the middle of asking Gladio a question, he stopped talking altogether and turned his attention to look at Prompto. He was on his feet shortly thereafter, closing the space between them and staring at Prompto with his pale blue eyes widened in surprise. This scrutiny was different from Ardyn's scrutiny. It was soft, it was gentle, it was _Noctis_. But it was still absolutely, positively nerve-wracking. Especially given the fact that his best friend wasn't saying anything.

Prompto cleared his throat and glanced from Noctis to the others, asking, "what... uh... what do you guys think?"

Behind Noctis, Gladio had stood, as well, and was giving him his own quiet appraisal. His initially shocked expression leveled out to neutrality before he finally gave a thin smile and thumbs-up. It wasn't the same quiet amazement on his best friend's face; but, it was... well, approval, at the very least. Gladio's attention drifted towards Ignis and Prompto followed suit, trying to look hopeful. The expression quickly wilted and Prompto brought a hand up to rub his shoulder in a nervous manner.

Ignis' appraisal was much harsher than the other two; not quite so much as Ardyn's had been and considerably less malicious... but, harsh nonetheless. Noctis seemed to catch on and finally looked over his shoulder with a scowl, "Iggy—"

"Hold that thought." Ignis held up a finger to silence both—all three, Gladio looked ready to protest the treatment, too—of them and turned the look on Ardyn. "I _thought_ you said _'minor changes'_. 'Minor' does not constitute an entire upheaval."

"I am quite confident you don't understand how minor this is, Scientia." Ardyn didn't look the least bit bothered, past his usual annoyance that Ignis was always willing to backtalk him so easily, "A small wardrobe change, a bit of style to that mopped mess on his head, and I can't possibly imagine what you have against him wearing contacts, so. What exactly _is_ the issue here?"

Before Ignis _could_ begin an entire tirade—mostly on account of the fact that Prompto wasn't sure he'd survive the words—a laugh filled the room, trying to ease the tension. Prompto moved around Noctis to put a hand on Ignis' shoulder, quietly begging him _not_ to start anything. His smile felt shaky, but it was the best he could do and the _only_ way he knew how to handle the stress while trying to calm any of his friends down. He could only hope his voice kept level when he found the will to speak up, "Hey, Specs, it's fine, right? I mean. This is _one_ outfit and we were going to go shopping, eventually, anyways, so... you can help me figure out the rest, yeah? And you guys know I've been wanting to try contacts forever, so like... it's cool, right? I mean... it doesn't look that bad—wait, does it?"

Okay, like... half of that was a lie. Especially wanting to try contacts, he stopped wanting that back when Noctis mentioned he liked his glasses. He had a number of other outfits aside from this one waiting to be coordinated and worn, too; but, Ignis _really_ didn't need to know that at this particular moment.

Almost immediately, his friend's expression leveled out to a rather apologetic one and he breathed a small sigh, "I apologise, Prompto. I assure you, the issue does not lie within the image itself. You carry it well and so long as _you_ are alright with it, I will help how I can. My concern was how _drastic_ the change was. This, in particular." He gently tapped just below Prompto's eye—whether he meant the highlighting cream or the eyeshadow, he wasn’t really sure though. "The accent to your eyes is appealing and we've all told you a number of times that _is_ one of your best physical features. The eyeshadow offers a much better accent than your glasses did, though we could have easily achieved a similar effect with different glasses. Perhaps not as _bold_ , but similar. ... The highlights, however... will you be all right? I'm sure you've seen your reflection by now. I _know_ one of us has mentioned that your freckles stand out in good ways and you weren't too keen on the idea. I will admit I'm not certain what the stylist _did_ , but they are considerably more... _vibrant_. You've had your hands in photography, Prompto. You know what that's going to translate to, through a lens and under stage lights."

The fact Ignis seemed to have most of the same reservations about this as Prompto was simultaneously a relief (realizing he _wasn't_ overreacting) and also condemning in a way that made him regret agreeing to this all together. He hadn't even _mentioned_ the new diet and work out he was supposed to be sticking to and he _knew_ Ignis and Gladio were both going to flip their lids immediately. Noctis, too, probably. Likely. ... Definitely.

Before he could voice any of his doubts on the matter or agree, Ardyn made a moderately annoyed huff.

"Must you nitpick? You wish to have Argentum at the forefront of your ensemble while simultaneously wishing _not_ to draw attention to him? That is remarkably contradicting and hardly realistic. He'll be moving around considerably more than the rest of you—he's shown that aspect of his personality well enough already, I believe—and you've already addressed the stage lights; the glasses _had_ to go. As for the cream, it's hardly more than a bit of moisturizer and a small bit of highlighter. Nothing drastic and entirely well within a regular skin care routine to ensure the little sunspots don't become ink blots." Their manager made a flippant gesture with his hand, dismissing the concerns all together, and gave Ignis a rather Cheshire look, "Nothing less than what I've suggested you do, either. I _could_ call our dear stylist back—"

"You would be wise to remind your stylist I will not tolerate her products anywhere near my face." Ignis' voice deadpanned and his eyes narrowed, "I am quite capable of my own self-care and if that's _all_ you're doing to Prompto, then I can help him _without_ whatever ridiculous product you've pushed on him." When Ardyn had no immediate argument to _that_ , Ignis finally seemed satisfied and turned to look Prompto over in a considerably less critical manner. His lips twitched at little as he finally took the outfit in, "... I am in absolutely no position to say anything about those pants, am I?"

"Not while you're wearing that shirt, no," Prompto felt his smile become a little more natural with the relief, more like a grin, and gave a nervous laugh, "They aren't _that_ bad. They're kinda comfy and I already tried dancing in 'em, too!"

Ignis, despite his best attempts, couldn't keep the smile from his face and gave an idle nod before he reached over to slap Gladio's wrist, successfully deterring his boyfriend's attention from the flannel trim and, more specifically, trying to prod at the material, "Leave that alone. ...What _is_ that attached to, Prompto?"

"I'm pretty sure it's just sewn into the vest… but, I also didn’t really look." He had. He definitely had and messed with it a number of times already, just to ensure it wouldn't tear too easily and... also kind of hoping it would. Not that he didn't like it, it would just... take some getting used to. With a frown, he finally realised Noctis still wasn't saying anything and looked over his shoulder to find him.

His best friend was just behind him, still looking him over, though it was less awe and more analytical now; so, Prompto turned and did his best to hold still. That didn't stop him from habitually reaching up to try messing with his glasses, though. His hand froze before he brushed his nose and a nervous laugh escaped, "That, uh... that's going to take a lot of getting used to...."

He could kind of hear Gladio and Ignis muttering between themselves; but, paid them very little mind and waited for the approval that actually mattered. After what felt like an eternity, Noctis finally smiled at him, "It looks great. Your eyes feel ok?"

"A little dry," He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, "I've got drops at home. I'll pick up a bottle to keep in my bag later."

At that, Noctis nodded. "We can stop by on the way to dinner. I was thinking that we could stop somewhere to celebrate you getting into the band." His smile was so honest, so happy, that Prompto honestly wished that he could live this moment over and over again a hundred thousand times just to see him like this forever. "Maybe we could finally go to Pasta Palace. You know, the restaurant by my dad's place that we've passed by a hundred million times and always talked about?"

Pasta sounded pretty good right about now. Prompto knew exactly the place Noctis was talking about. It was a tiny little hole in the wall, but all of the ratings on the internet said that it was incredible. Over Noctis' shoulder, though, a piercing glare caught his attention. Everyone had their backs turned to Ardyn; no one could see the look that he was giving Prompto. A look that suggested that pasta, no matter how much Prompto wanted it, was _not_ a part of his diet plan. How could he say that to the guys, though? Because he was reasonably sure that the amount he'd gushed to Noctis about wanting to go to this place was shameful.

Besides, what was the big deal about one meal? He didn't even _have_ a definitive diet plan yet. Maybe when Ardyn gave him an actual physical copy of what he was and wasn't supposed to eat, he'd be more inclined to obey. So, sucking in a brave breath—realizing that it was probably a little bit obvious—he turned to look at Noctis. "Pasta Palace sounds great."

Ardyn's disapproving scowl grew. If he really disapproved, though, all he had to do was say something. Under an official order, Prompto was pretty sure that he had no choice but to follow. "There's one more matter we need to attend to," he said instead.

"And what is that?" Ignis asked.

Rooting around in his briefcase, Ardyn procured a large stack of papers. "Scientia, you have no room to object to this, as I've already given you full access to this contract. You've read it, front to back, correct?" he asked, rifling through the papers in his hands and then procuring a pen.

Ignis looked at the papers and nodded his head. "I did. Did you show it to Mr. Caelum and Mr. Amicitia?" he asked.

"Yes, yes. I know the deal," Ardyn waved his hand dismissively. "They told me that if you had no objections to it, then nor do they." He approached the group, pushing his way between Noctis and Ignis so that he was standing right in front of Prompto. "One last thing remains, then. A signature on this dotted line, three initials on the second page, and a second signature on the last page."

Prompto eyed the pen in Ardyn's hand, and then turned his head to Ignis. If Ignis had looked through the papers, that was enough for him. No matter what was in there, there was no way that Ignis would let Ardyn force him to agree to anything too bad. His eyes met Noctis' over Ardyn's shoulder, and the look of hope in his favorite person's eyes had him even more willing to discard any questions or second thoughts he may have been having. No matter what happened, no matter what Ardyn tried to say or do, being with Noctis all the time like that was more than worth it.

With that thought in mind, he took the pen from Ardyn's hand and walked over to a small table in the corner of the room. Noctis pushed past Ardyn, following behind him and leaning against the table with his lip. "This is gonna be great, Prom!" he exclaimed. "We'll make it big, be super popular, tour with Luna and the girls like we planned to forever ago, and..."

Noctis kept talking, excitement dripping over his every word as he spoke of plans. It was rare to see Noctis like this. He was always so reserved, so much calmer than Prompto was. But when he got like this, when he got excited and eager about something to the point that he felt it down to his very core, it was one of Prompto's favorite things in the world. Seeing Noctis light up, seeing the electricity of happiness shining in his eyes, made whatever came next _absolutely_ worth the effort. It also made it damn near impossible not to reach over, grab Noctis' face, and kiss him. Thankfully, somehow, he stopped himself.

Instead, he turned around, walking over to Ardyn with the contract and holding it out to the man with a nod. "Consider me signed."

"Marvelous," Ardyn replied.

Something about the wry grin that crept across his face right then was unsettling to Prompto—like a villain in a superhero movie who had just gotten some kind of secret code or something—and Prompto found himself wondering exactly what that was about as he watched Ardyn put the signed contract into his briefcase. He didn't say anything, though; didn't question it. For now, he focused more on his friends. It wasn't as easy to ignore, though, when Ignis seemed to have picked up on it, too. Prompto raked his teeth over his lip, glancing over at Noctis instead. Noctis seemed not to have noticed, and the excitement that he radiated was contagious enough that it made it just slightly easier for Prompto to ignore his hesitation.

The smile on his face, as rare as smiles like this were, made Prompto's regrets melt away. "So," Prompto announced, "do we want to invite the girls to this pasta date with us? Or is it gonna be just us guys?"

"Just us," Gladio announced. "The girls are with Noct's dad, getting ready for the recording session he set up."

Ardyn still glared at Prompto, disapproval lining his features like he expected that glare to be enough to make him cancel their dinner plans. It almost was. Maybe it should have been. But Prompto wanted to celebrate. Even if he only ate a light meal, some kind of salad maybe, or something that Ardyn _couldn't_ yell at him for eating, then it wasn't a big deal, right? His arm went to his side, covering where the man had touched his skin. The gesture was nonchalant—not noticeable unless someone was watching him really closely—probably, and he took his eyes away from their manager.

Ignis, in fact, may have been watching; or, maybe Prompto was just paranoid. Or, maybe the older pair were just warier than they let on, because Ignis and Gladio immediately fell into step behind Prompto, easily blocking him from Ardyn's view as the four of them left. They continued their own conversation—occasionally putting in opinions when Noctis prompted them to do so. Either way, the wall they made was welcome and Prompto finally let himself relax as soon as they were outside and he let out a short, openly relieved laugh, "I don't think I've been that scared since he caught us breaking the rule about me not practicing with you guys. Real talk, now that he's out of earshot—it _really_ doesn't look bad, right?"

"I am mildly offended by the plaid flannel against leopard print, but otherwise it... could be considerably worse." Ignis drawled; but, despite criticizing his vest and pants, his attention was on the boots. "You're certain those are comfortable, Prompto? I don't believe I've ever seen you wear anything but tennis shoes."

"Iggy, _your_ shirt is leopard print." Noctis pointed out before Prompto got a chance to assure Ignis he was fine. The darker haired boy rolled his eyes, "You already said you don't get to say anything about the pants. _I_ think it looks fine."

"You're not much less of a fashion disaster yourself, Noct." Gladio put in, his arm settling around Ignis' waist to pull him closer now that they were away from Ardyn. Even if the two were open about their relationship, their manager always found _something_ to say about them if they were too close, too personal, too physical when he was around. Ignis didn't argue the gesture and instead nodded his agreement with a look of mock offense—or... what Prompto _assumed_ was mock offense. Honestly, with Ignis, sometimes it was hard to tell when he was criticizing Noctis' clothes or teasing him. Usually, it was a little of both; but, they also knew he would stop Noctis from wearing anything _too_ uncoordinated.

"Those cargos you wear during the summer just... with those boots? And that _jacket_. What could you possibly need all those pockets for?"

"Obviously for cat treats and fishing lures. Picks, pens, gel, a comb, who fucking knows, honestly." Gladio mumbled, "Or, could be for Prom—"

"—Hey, _nobody_ asked for either of your opinions!" Noctis cut him off, leaving Prompto to wonder where the comment was going. He tried to sound annoyed, tried to glare at the two; but, he couldn't fight down the smile and ended up grinning and throwing his arm over Prompto's shoulders, "Ignore those two, I think you look great and things are only going to get better from here. Right?"

Excitement. Expectation—no. Reality. _This_ was reality, now; it wasn't just some farfetched dream they talked about at two in the morning when they couldn't sleep or during short breaks between jam sessions. This was real and Prompto still wasn't entirely convinced he wasn't dreaming. Instead of thinking too long on it, he decided to just hold onto the fact that Noctis liked how he looked. That he managed to make him stare earlier—that _maybe_ Ardyn might have an idea of what he's talking about. Maybe if he could really sell this image—if he could work for it the way their manager wanted him to... maybe he could keep Noctis' attention to himself. Maybe he could keep surprising him.

Instead of voicing any of those thoughts out loud, Prompto brought his arm up to rest over Noctis' shoulders in return and gave him the best grin he could manage, "Straight to the top and off the charts." It's easier than he expected, to say the words—to believe them—and he didn't doubt for a second it was _because_ of Noctis. Because of Ignis and Gladio, too; but, for Prompto personally... it was, always would be, all about one person. And if all it took was following Ardyn's advice, then... he could do that. He could do anything.

The drive was filled with excited chatter. Filled with things that felt amazing and _normal_. Ignis shooing both of them into the backseat, glowering at Noctis in the rearview mirror for even _thinking_ he would get away with driving while Ignis was in the car. Honestly, after the last incident, none of them should have been surprised; but, Noctis still tried to protest until Gladio physically and quite literally shoved him in the backseat and told Prompto to buckle him in. Which, in turn, resulted in a lot of petulant, annoyed grumbling and ' _I can do it myself_ ' when Prompto went along with the order. His best friend shot him an annoyed look; but, it broke when Prompto muffled a giggle behind his hand, when Noctis ended up laughing, too. The both tried to reach the radio—tried to fight over the station, the CD, tried to reach the auxiliary cord to plug in one of their iPods—before Ignis threatened to kick both of them out and make them walk. Instead of testing his conviction, they settled back and immediately went back to sharing earbuds. Despite singing aloud to annoy their driver, they still listened when he or Gladio brought up a point about upcoming events—rehearsals, the debut, talk of photoshoots (that Prompto was admittedly nervous about)—and eventually the conversation turned into talk of tours. Touring with their friends. More excitement.

Prompto didn't even realize they'd pulled into a convenience store parking lot until Ignis was asking if he needed anything besides eye drops.

"What—oh! Oh, no, I'm good—wait, where are you going—I can get them myself!" He tried to protest; but, Ignis was already out of the car. Gladio grinned at him as he was getting out, too.

"Nah, kids stay in the car. We're just grabbing stuff for home so we don't have to on the way back. Besides, do you even know which eye drops you need? You can't just use artificial tears _all_ the time with contacts."

Prompto's argument was again ignored by Gladio closing the door and jogging around the car and inside to catch up with his boyfriend. So, instead, he turned to Noctis, his cheeks puffing up a little in annoyance, "Why does Iggy know _everything_?"

Noctis snorted a little, leaning on his door with a shrug, "I stopped questioning that when I was like twelve, dude. So. What are you getting?" Prompto must have looked confused, because Noctis rolled his eyes a moment later and shook his head, "For dinner? We've looked at the recommendations a million times, so you gotta have an idea of what you want."

Oh. Right. They were going to dinner. In the back of his mind, Prompto could still hear Ardyn's words, still felt the touch lingering on his side. He pushed those thoughts away, reminded himself he could do this—not because Ardyn said to; because he _wanted_ to fit in—and tried to give a smile, hoped it looked more convincing than he thought, "Order for me? I'll probably just get something light, my stomach's still all sorts of knotted from being nervous, y'know? I can take whatever you order home and eat it later, though?"

The amusement immediately left his friend's face, was immediately replaced by a frown, "You already take your meds?"

Prompto nodded. That, at the very least, _wasn't_ a lie. He'd been so stressed over the makeover he hadn't had a choice _but_ to take his medicine. At the very least, it gave him an excuse to not go all out with this celebration dinner... even if he felt _really bad_ for the look Noctis was giving him.

"Would you rather just go home?" Noctis asked, concern lining his eyes as he regarded Prompto in appraisal. "Iggy can put together some food and-"

Prompto shook his head no, smiling softly and nudging Noctis with his shoulder. "Dude. No! No way. I'm not gonna ruin the celebration just because of some wiggly stomach crap." He let his smile grow a little bit more. "Plus, you've been dying to go to this place since forever, and I'm not gonna ruin it for you. Especially since before we know it, we'll be on the road on tour and there won't be any chance to _go_ to Pasta Palace anymore." Raising his hand, he moved to push on glasses that weren't there anymore, then breathed a laugh. He still wasn't used to that.

Noctis' expression was still questioning, and he looked Prompto over for any sign of dishonesty. That was the only negative thing about their relationship, Prompto had always thought. Really, it wasn't a negative; it was just an inconvenience that existed. It was nice, honestly, having someone who knew him so well, inside and out. Right now, it didn't really feel like a positive, but that was only because the laser pointed logic and knowledge was pointed at something that it was probably best that Noctis didn't know.

That didn't stop him from asking, though.

"Something's wrong," Noctis pointed out. "And don't try and tell me that it's just still-frazzled nerves. I've seen frazzled nerves, and I know the difference between Frazzled Prompto and Something's Wrong Prompto." One of Noctis' hands pointed at Prompto's head, signifying that he meant 'in Prompto's mind,' and cutting off his only escape route.

The plan had been to play it off as discomfort with the new clothes, but when Noctis pointed at his head, all but closing that option off, Prompto sighed. For another few seconds, Prompto considered lying. He considered telling Noctis that it was just anxiety, worry about failing the rest of them and ruining the dream they'd worked so hard for. Something about the way Noctis was looking at him, though, suggested that it wouldn't work. With his eyes on the leopard print of his pants, he pulled in a slow, steadying sigh, then turned his head to look at Noctis. How did he even broach this topic?

Well, for starters, he could say, "promise me you won't tell anyone? Like, not even Iggy or Gladio." Because, Astrals help him, Ignis and Gladio would go ballistic. Gladio especially. Gladio would probably get himself thrown in jail, or out of the band at the very least, and Ignis wouldn't even be able to stop him like he usually was.

Noctis glanced over his shoulder for a moment, likely to check and see if their other friends were coming, but when he noticed that they were still walking around the store, he looked back at Prompto instead. "Yeah, I promise," he answered. The concern in his features only doubled then, though. Much to Prompto's surprise, one of Noctis' hands found his and wrapped their fingers together.

It was no different to what they did all the time—they were always all about arms around each other, hand touches, hugs, leaning against each other, so it wasn't unusual—but it still always made Prompto's heart skip a beat every time. This damned crush was too much sometimes. He smiled at their twined fingers, then turned his head to look up at Noctis, the smile wilting just slightly. Yeah, Noctis made Prompto happy, but when he looked concerned like that, Prompto always felt guilty.

And that was the only reason he was allowing himself to speak up. "Ardyn," he started, choking just slightly on the manager's name as it came from his mouth. "When I was back there, when they were picking out clothes, he pointed out that I need to... hell, I don't remember what the number was, but he told me that I need to, y'know..." He glanced down, and placed a hand on his stomach.

Noctis merely looked at him with inquisitive eyes, blinking in confusion, and following his eyes and his hand down to his stomach. "I guess I don't know..." he murmured, confused.

Prompto sighed. Noctis was going to make him say it. "Lose weight," he explained, mild exasperation crossing his features. Quickly, and before Noctis could interrupt, Prompto continued speaking. "Which is totally fine! I get that we're supposed to portray a certain image and everything and I need to fit into the whole... whatever, you know, image thing." He waved his hand in the air dismissively. "But it was the _way_ he told me. He lifted my shirt up. Like this." Prompto reached down to the side of his own shirt, then glanced at Noctis for a moment. "Then he pinched my skin and told me that-"

"He _what_?!" Noctis asked, incredulous.

Biting his lip, Prompto nodded. "Y-yeah," he murmured. "Like, I know I'm not in the best shape, or-"

A huff of annoyed laughter was Noctis' only response, and he squeezed Prompto's hand just slightly. "Okay, one? That's crap. You're totally fine just like you are. More than fine. You're... you're perfect, Prom." The words were gentle, soft, and they made Prompto's stomach twist when combined with the way Noctis looked at him. "You don't need to lose weight. You're skinnier than even Iris, and that's saying something." With a quirked smile, he poked Prompto in the shoulder with his other hand. "Two," he continued, meeting Prompto's eyes again, "there's no way that's okay, him grabbing you like that. And if we tell Specs and the Big Guy-"

"No," Prompto refused, his eyes widening. "Please don't, Noct. Like, listen. I know they'll probably wanna know, but Gladio would get pissed. Really pissed, probably. He'd probably try and punch Ardyn or something and get himself kicked out of the band or put in jail or something. So, please. Promise me again..."

Noctis frowned. "Only if you promise me something in return," he mumbled, looking down at their twined fingers and then back up at Prompto's face.

There was pretty much nothing in the world that Prompto wouldn't at least try to do for Noctis, so to the request, he glanced up and met his best friend's eyes with the tiniest of smiles. "Anything," he answered. Literally anything. Anything in the world Noctis wanted, he'd at least try to do.

"Don't let him ruin your life," Noctis started. "You're perfect the way you are, Prom. And it's not like he can force you to lose weight. I mean, it's not like it's in the contract or anything. If anything like that was in there, Specs or my dad would have said something. So... so, don't let him make you think you have to change just to be a part of this band, okay? Please?"

Prompto considered the words for a long moment. He still gave a vague nod to the question—he meant what he'd said, after all. Anything Noctis asked him, he would definitely _try_ to do. He still let the rest turn over in his head a few times, though. Mostly, his best friend was absolutely right and there was all sorts of relief that they shared the same reservations—Ignis _had_ looked over their contracts, thoroughly, and made a point to keep Mr. Caelum and Mr. Amicitia both as involved as they possibly could be. None of them would let Ardyn get away with anything _too_ obscene or farfetched; and, likewise, their manager really _couldn't_ make him lose weight. Even by restricting his diet and trying to keep him on a workout routine, Prompto was pretty damn sure he couldn't physically drop his weight any further without skipping meals entirely. He really was the lightest in either group—which was saying a lot, given Iris' constant issues with maintaining her own weight at a healthy number. If nothing else, Iris was _under_ weight, for how active she was, and Prompto being thinner than her really was saying a lot, so Noctis definitely had a point.

At the same time, though, Prompto couldn't help but feel Noctis was wrong about just as many things. The only way Ardyn could ruin his life at this point was if he tried to separate the four of them— _really_ separate them. Yeah, it had been shit when he was sitting on the sidelines, watching and _wishing_ he was practicing with them... but he'd been there. They'd still been together and that was literally all that mattered. As much as they claimed to need him, Prompto needed them almost ten-fold. They were, first and foremost, the first people that had ever tried to be friends with him. That hadn't been put-off but how awkward he could be in conversations, that had been patient while he dealt with his own anxieties, and... ultimately, they'd helped him get out of his house. Ok, so that part was mostly their parents; but, Prompto was still almost a hundred-percent certain that if they hadn't been there with him, that whole legal mess with his own father would have been a million times worse and Prompto would've probably still been living with him.

Most of all—because he knew Ardyn couldn't actually get rid of them or separate them or force them apart without one Hell of a fight—Noctis was _very_ wrong about one thing in particular: Prompto was anything but perfect.

He didn't have Gladio's charisma or people skills off stage and definitely couldn't hold a candle to his physique; he didn't have Ignis' intelligence or sense of control or talents in the kitchen; and, when compared to Noctis... that was a list all on its own. They all had their faults and Prompto had long come to terms with that, just as he'd accepted he was good at things they weren't—specifically, he was better than all three of them with anything technology-specific and they made sure he knew that, vocally, he was the strongest of the four of them. But, overall... he knew he still had miles to cover to even come close to catching up to any of them and then some.

Noctis was still looking at him, still expectant, still waiting, still quiet. Prompto wondered how long he'd been lost in his own world; but, he brushed the thoughts away and offered the best smile he could. It felt easy and natural and relieved, "Long as you're here—you guys... long as you guys are here? He can't ruin _anything_. But... I do wanna get in shape, Noct—lemme finish." Noctis looked ready for a drawn-out argument; but, he settled instead with a pointed look. One Prompto heeds and continues, quickly, "Not losing weight—I mean. That might still happen; but, he _did_ have a point. I move around a lot during songs. I want to make sure I can do that without getting winded, without getting tired. I want to be able to run around on stage. I used to go running in high school, right? So, I'll just get back into that and... I'll—I'll talk to Iggy about helping me find a better diet, ok? Just better stuff to eat instead of defaulting to snacks all the time for an energy spike."

Noctis at least looked like he was considering the proposal. Prompto nudged his shoulder a little with his own, gripped his hand a bit tighter, to get his attention back.

"I promise: I won't let him ruin any of this. But, you gotta _swear_ you aren't gonna tell Specs and Gladio what happened."

A shorter stretch of silence—temporary distraction when they both glance out the window to see Ignis and Gladio coming back—and Noctis nods, likely trying to wrap the conversation up before the two get in the car and can ask too many questions, "Fine. But, I'm going running with you. _Someone_ has to make sure you get home in one piece."

Prompto could live with that. It wasn't perfect—he'd rather have run until he was exhausted, but... he also should've known Noctis would know exactly what he was going to do. At least he'd gotten away with the diet part. Before he could agree, he felt wary. Noctis was giving him a sly grin; normally, this was a _very_ attractive expression... but, at that moment, Prompto could only consider that this was about to get awkward. Not bad awkward, but the awkward that lead to him having to bite his tongue to keep from saying something stupid.

The thought barely left him when Noctis yanked him into a suffocating hug; with both arms tight around his neck and Prompto making indignant squawks of protest in his attempts to squirm free, "I'll let go when you lemme know what you're ordering."

"Cheating—this is cheating!" Prompto gasped, trying to pry his friend's arms loose. When that failed, when he heard the front doors open, he made desperate grabbing hands at Gladio's chair instead, "Big Guy! Help—"

He cut off with a short, sharp intake of breath when Noctis released him and dragged a finger up his spine. Prompto immediately threw him a glare in response, "Don't you _dare_ —"

Gladio, thankfully, disrupted any further plans Noctis may have had, by tossing a small box back to them that hit Noctis square between the eyes, "Feel each other up later. Preferably when me and Iggy _aren't_ here and... you know, not in the car?"

Ignis may have corrected him; but, Prompto didn't hear anything that followed. Just felt his entire face heat up and was at least kind of aware when Noctis passed him the box of eye drops. Aware enough to stammer out a quick word of thanks, at any rate.

"We weren't _feeling each other up_ ," Noctis huffed. "Just because the two of you can't touch each other without it being sexual doesn't mean everyone else in the world has the same problem. Right, Prom?"

Prompto just blinked a couple of times, before laughing an awkward laugh and turning his head to look at Gladio. "I'm not going near this one with a ten foot pole, to be honest. If you want Gladio to break you in half, that's fine, Noct, but... I'm pretty okay with my body being in one piece, thanks." He set to work opening the box of eye drops. Not a moment too soon.

Grumbling, Noctis rubbed at the spot that the box had hit between his eyes. "Speaking of," he muttered, huffing in annoyance as he shot a glare Gladio's way, "it'd be great if you could _not_ try and concuss me with eye drops, Gladio. Kinda need to be conscious to play guitar, y'know?" Instead of making too big a deal of it, though, Noctis opted to make himself comfortable in his seat.

Ignis rolled his eyes. "If you three are quite finished," he muttered as he put the keys into the ignition and turned them. "I do hope that you can behave yourselves in the restaurant."

"Relax, Iggy," Gladio mused, clicking radio stations until some weird, old rock music blared through the speakers. "Long as no one throws pasta at me, I'm okay." As he spoke, he cast a very pointed glare at Noctis in the rear view mirror.

Prompto chuckled as he blinked the eye drops into his eyes. Sighing a relaxed sigh, he turned his head to look over at Noctis, smiling a sheepish smile at his best friend as their eyes met. It probably would have been easy for Noctis to just explode and spill everything Prompto had said before the others got back into the car. But, as usual, he proved himself to be the perfect friend, and showed the reason that he was Prompto's favorite person all over again. Once he re-capped the eye drops and slid the back into the box, then into his bag, Noctis grabbed hold of his hand again. Once again, the calm that had set over them returned, and Prompto smiled as he heard Noctis humming along with the song. In the front seat, Gladio drummed on his knees.

"You two look like you got some big secret. Don't tell me you finally made out," Gladio teased, eyeing them in the rear view mirror again.

Huffing in annoyance, Noctis shook his head no. "We didn't _make out_ , shut up, Gladio. We were just talking about how stoked we are to finally get to debut, now that everything's all in place."

The ease of the lie would have made Prompto feel bad, if not for the way Noctis squeezed his hand. As it stood, it made him feel a _little_ sheepish. If Noctis was going to lie so seamlessly for him, though, the least he could do was eat a normal amount tonight. One last splurge of a meal, just so that Noctis wouldn't worry. And then tomorrow, his new diet _really_ started. Whether or not it matched what Ardyn had planned, well that remained to be seen.

**Author's Note:**

> omigosh this is happening and we're both super excited! For anyone interested in re-visiting the songs mentioned or don't know a song we mentioned in the chapter, here you go (These all link out to youtube, mind your volume, friends!)  
> [Fast Car - Tracy Chapman](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uTIB10eQnA0)  
> [(Hemorrhage) In My Hands - Fuel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7KwJZT6lOJc)  
> [The Anthem - Good Charlotte](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XWWoIdXQdAI)  
> [Pocketful of Sunshine - Natasha Bedingfield](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0btXhLdAuAc)


End file.
